Mr Dobbits Chocolates and Cakes Save the World
by onewealthyhobo
Summary: All Harry ever wanted was to raise Teddy in a proper home, but of course his fame wouldn't allow them that sort of peace. So they forsake magic to find themselves a true home. Perhaps they'll find it in Forks? Harry/Chief Swan Teddy/Jacob
1. Prologue

I am not giving up on _There's No Such Thing as Normal, _it's just I dreamt this thing up and the plot bunny wouldn't die, so now I'm writing it...

La di Da

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><p>No matter where Harry went, disaster followed. He was used to this, it's been happening since the first day of his existence, but as he sat in the cramped business class of an international airline with his son's hand squeezing his own, he decided enough was enough. Come hell or high water, this time it would work.<p>

Teddy's hair was a sick puke green beneath his cap, having decided on that color for the week since it would turn that shade anyway on the plane. He couldn't bother with his hair when all his concentration was focused on not vomiting up his stomach on the merciless 10 hour flight. The boy did not handle flying gracefully. At least not in a 2,000 ton metal contraption hurtling through the air at Merlin knows what speed. Harry wasn't much better, but Teddy was definitely worse.

At 16 years old, and not giving a damn who saw, Teddy had Harry's hand in a death grip so tight that Harry lost feeling somewhere at the 2 hour mark. He did not complain though, it was his fault that Teddy was subjected to this torture.

He had thought they could hide in Greece, make a home there, set down some roots. He had thought that about Italy, and about Spain as well. Teddy loved living by the water and Harry did everything in his power to give him a sunny home by the sea but not even the thrice damned Savior of the Wizarding world could manage that.

Somehow, in some unimaginable way, the reporters, the politicians, the frothing mob of rabid fans found them each and every time. Even with magic he couldn't hide away from his adoring, obsessive, absolutely insane worshipers. Glamors didn't work on the scar, and the last 3 of his Secret Keepers ended up hospitalized. Anyone who knew of his location either became filthy rich or gravely injured. Not even Neville's title as a hero himself kept them from using illegally acquired Veritaserum on him. The perpetrators were caught and sentenced, but Harry couldn't endanger his friends like that again, the small few that he had left.

The first time he had vanquished Voldemort they called him the Boy-Who-Lived. The final time he killed the bastard they praised him as the Savior, the Champion, Merlin Reincarnate. Statues of his likeness were erected in every park and courtyard, songs written about him blared on the Wireless nonstop, entire sections in bookstores were dedicated to only him, there was even an opera. An _OPERA! _He was mobbed every time he stepped outside, a camera flashing at him with each blink, questions screamed at him, fanatic witches clawing at his clothes begging to have his babies. They turned him into a God, a wizarding version of the Beatles for Merlin's sake! He literally could not step outside.

How the bloody hell was he suppose to raise a son like that?

Teddy already had enough happen to him, his parents gone before he could even remember them, stuck with a terrified 17 year old boy who didn't have a clue what he was doing as a father. Harry refused to further upset Teddy's life with the fame, but the solution was hardly any better. They had no choice but to hide, disguise who they were, and then run when they were eventually discovered. He couldn't stand the camera's flashing at Teddy, but uprooting him time and time again was killing Harry.

And so, 3 weeks ago when Harry had to pull Teddy out of school to avoid the waiting mob at the gates because someone somewhere let the secret slip again, despite all his bribes, he decided to hell with the wizarding world. All he's ever wanted was to be left alone to raise his family, he had done enough for them to deserve that at the very least. But no, they wouldn't give him the peace he so desperately wanted. So fuck them, fuck them all.

And Teddy agreed with him. Hogwarts had been a disaster. Teddy was a bright, lovable boy at 11 but all they ever saw was the son of the Savior. Every child since the Dark Lord's fall fell asleep listening to the tales of Harry Potter. And of course their parents filled their heads with the idea of being the Savior's son's friend. They drowned Teddy, smothered and suffocated him. They squabbled over him as only children do over a prized toy, or starved wolves over a piece of meat, and no matter what the teachers did they couldn't protect him. Harry had kissed a confident excited boy at the train station goodbye, and got back a nervous sobbing wreck at Yule.

Teddy never went back again. Harry took him to Spain and slowly, basking in the bright sun and white sand beaches, Teddy found his confidence again. Until they were discovered and had to move. He did not do so well in Italy. And in Greece he made no effort to make friends at all.

As wonderful as magic was, it wasn't worth living like this.

So Harry transferred all his vaults into a muggle account, changed their names for the very last time, and bought 2 train tickets to Paris where they hopped on the first plane headed across the pond. Neither one of them looked back.

"One more hour, cub, hang in there. Just one more hour," Harry said soothingly.

Teddy clenched his eyes shut as the plane lurched with turbulence, his tan skin tinged gray turned even grayer. "Yeah...hanging in there...by a thread... thin thread...very thin," he grunted through clenched teeth, "How's your hand?"

"Broken, I suspect, but that's all right. I can't feel it any how," Harry said with the barest ghost of a smile. Teddy tried to loosen his grip only to tighten it again when the plane hit another bout of turbulence.

"Sorry, da." Teddy said. He forced himself to do breathing exercises that Harry had taught him when he was young, slow breath in through the nose, hold, and exhale out through the mouth. In, out, in, out. It helped with his panic attacks back then, and it helped a little now. Good thing he hadn't eaten anything beforehand.

"So tell me where we're going again?" Teddy asked, desperately needing distraction.

"We'll land in Seattle, Washington. From there we'll figure it out." Harry said, giving Teddy a comforting squeeze of the hand. He was pleasantly surprised he could move it at all.

"Washington, Washington," Teddy echoed, as if tasting the word. "Warshingtone. Y'know they call themselves Washingtonians. Sounds like a dinosaur, yeah?"

Harry chuckled, "Yeah."

"Y'know Seattle has the highest suicide rate in all the cities of America."

"...Yeah?"

"Just saying."

"And how do you know that?" Harry asked with a raised brow.

"There's this new thing they've just invented," Teddy replied, eyes still closed but looking more relaxed, "it's called the internet. You should try it some time."

Harry chuckled again and shook his head.

"It's got something to do with all the rain, they say." Teddy continued.

"Then it should be just like London." Harry replied.

Silence fell between them. Harry looked out the window and watched the patchwork of lights pass by in the darkness below.

"Da..." Teddy said after a time.

"Yeah, cub?"

"I kind of miss London." he admitted quietly.

Harry sighed. "Me too."

Above them the lights for the seat belts dinged on as the plane readied for it's descent.

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	2. The Power of Chocolate

All right, the first chapter and we've finally discovered what Harry and Teddy did with themselves. It's set in the summer so school is out and Teddy hasn't a chance to enroll yet, Bella is not there, and neither is the Cullens for the moment.

It's been a long while since I read the books, and frankly I'm not interested in reading them again. I've forgotten much of the details, I suppose my brain decided the series to be so traumatically horrendous that it attempted to wipe it clean from my memory. If I get flames for that comment I don't frankly care. That is why fanfiction exists, to make better the lacking attributes in cannon, and frankly to have fun.

But I digress. As I was saying I don't remember much, so what little character development Charlie might have had I've forgotten, so technically speaking he is OOC.

There will be OC characters in here, though very minor ones to help further the plot.

You won't be seeing any vampires for quite some time, and since Teddy will be ending up with Jacob eventually it will mostly be about the wolves. So sorry members of Team Edward, you'll have to wait out in the rain.

So without further ado, I give you the first chapter.

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><p><strong>Don't Underestimate the Power of Chocolate<strong>

Within the humble, rainy town of Forks there was a building in the down town area that had been standing since the city's very beginning. It was a 2 story box of a building made of bricks that had been painted, peeled, weathered, and painted again so many times no one remembers the original color. It had been a grocer's store in the beginning, then a small printing press during World War I that was sadly shut down during the Depression. After years of standing empty it was bought by an eccentric poet and his artistic wife who transformed the place into a creative alcove to nurture their respective muses. He wrote 53 books that were never published and she painted nearly 300 paintings that never sold. On their 20th anniversary they drank a bottle of champagne on top a cliff over looking Puget Sound. Once they finished the bottle they clasped hands and jumped. The building stood empty ever since.

Until Mr. Dobbit came to town.

The dirty peeling bricks were sanded down and painted clean white, the door restored and painted a festive red, the boards removed, as well as the garbage in the front yard, substituted with black iron chairs and tables and pots full of wild flowers. In humble yet charming black letters the words _Mr. Dobbit's Chocolates and Cakes _were written across the window where such treats were displayed.

Only 3 weeks open and already it had become the favorite place of every wife, child, and teenager in Forks. Not only did it serve chocolates and cakes, there were cookies as well, and cupcakes, and scones, and tarts, and pies, and fudge, and ice cream, and milkshakes, and coffee. Every possible decadent treat you could imagine, Mr. Dobbit would make it for you.

But Cheif Charlie Swan did not like sweet things, so he had no idea why the hell he was here. Well, that was actually a lie. He knew why he was here, he and his partner Margerie Crowley got the short stick to get coffee for the graveyard staff at the station. Apparently Marge, and everyone else on the force, had stopped getting their caffiene at the gas station and switched over to Dobbit's confounded specialty low fat mocha latte soy chai whatever the hell it was. Candy bars melted in a cup. But it was late and raining, as usual, so Charlie was overthrown by the majority.

Charlie held back, letting Marge get the door since she was the type of lady that resented men holding doors open for her. That, and he really didn't want to go inside. Eventually though he had to get out of the summer rain. The moment he did he was assualted with a barrage of scents that most people would describe as heavenly. The alluring aroma of chocolates, fresh backed cinnamon buns, and a slew of other fragrant sweet things. Marge breathed it in deeply as if it was the first breath of her life. It gave Charlie a headache.

For such a late hour the store was busier than Charlie expected. Nearly midnight and there was a line to the counter. A line for crying out loud! Don't these people sleep? More people were scattered around the store, sitting at the mismatched tables, sipping from over sized mugs reading slightly tattered books they had gotten from the two book shelves shoved into the far corner.

Charlie had only been in a bakery 6 times in his life, dragged in by Renee every time to help pick out a wedding cake. The walls were always a pale pastel color and the furniture fake, over decorated antiques with plenty of silk flowers every where, as if the store was a wedding cake itself. He was glad Mr. Dobbit had better taste than that.

Despite himself Charlie had to admit the bakery was actually pleasant, regardless of the over powering smell. Nothing matched in this place. All the furniture seemed to have been cast offs, taken in and lovingly restored to its former glory but all the dings and scraps that gave it character and history stayed intact. The floor was the original wood work, Charlie assumed. It too had been restored, but here and there were low and high spots were the wood warped and buckled over the years, and it creaked in the way only very old floors did. The walls were painted a deep forest green, giving the store a slightly darker atmosphere than one would expect for a sweets shop, but it had a homey feel, giving out a sense of privacy and seclusion from the rest of the world.

There were paintings on the walls and Charlie squinted at one of them as he waited in line. It took him a while to realize that his eye sight wasn't the problem. It was fuzzy and out of focus on purpose, just like those impressionist paintings he vaguely remembered in the art history class he was forced to take in college. Renior? Monet? Something stuffy old french guy. It took him several minutes to figure out that he was staring at a little boy dipping his feet into a pond while holding a short fishing pole in his fuzzy hands, with a few smudges of vague duck shapes floating on the water. He was proud of himself when he realized what it was.

By that time it was their turn to order.

Chalk boards behind the counter listed all the specials in a funny scrawling font, and idly Charlie wondered how they got it so neat. What he remembered of chalk was the side walk chalk he had bought Bella once when she was small. The both of them spent all afternoon drawing pictures on the black top in the park and that had been a complete and utter mess. He then realized he must be really exhausted if he was wondering about chalk. He needed coffee now!

He pulled out the list of specific orders, _they couldn't just stick to cream and sugar, no they have me making lists now _thought Charlie with a mental eye roll, as he stepped up to the cashier.

"Evening officers." said an accented voice, young and cheerful, and Charlie stopped short as he looked up from the list.

Behind the counter stood a tan boy no older than 15 or 16 and admittedly there wasn't anything odd about that. What was odd was that he was wearing the pinkest apron Charlie had ever seen, complete with frills on the hem and shoulder straps. On the chest the words _Keep Laughing, This is Your Mom's Apron _were proudly displayed. He also had exceptionally long black hair tied up in a loose bun on the back of his head, but that wasn't nearly as weird as the apron.

"Evening Teddy," Marge said, smiling widely to the boy and Teddy gave her a bright smile full of sparkling white teeth.

"Raspberry White Chocolate Latte," Teddy said, snapping his fingers and pointing to Marge, "and a blackberry scone."

She laughed, "You remembered."

"Of course, it's your favorite, isn't it?" he asked. He had an odd accent Charlie thought, maybe spanish, but the way he lilted his words sounded british. Whatever it was Charlie couldn't place it.

Marge turned to Charlie, grinning from ear to ear. "He actually guessed it before I even ordered. His father, Mr. Dobbit, can do it too. They do it for every new customer and they haven't gotten it wrong once," she gushed like a girl. It disturbed Charlie a little. Marge usually did her best to be un-girl like as possible. "Here, do the cheif next."

Teddy pursed his lips as he looked Charlie up and down, from his boots all the way up to the top of his head. "I don't know, he's a hard one," Teddy said, tapping his chin. He turned and called over his shoulder to the open door in the back that must have lead into the kitchen. "Hey, da! We got a toughy here."

"Really now?" a smooth masculine voice called back, and this one was definitely british. Mr. Dobbit emerged from the kitchen in a flour dusted apron, black and modest unlike his son's, and was wiping his hands on a clean rag. He had the same raven black hair as Teddy but far shorter, tied back in a stubby little tail at the base of his skull, a bit of a wavey fringe too short to be pulled back rested on his forehead. There was a smudge of flour on his tan nose. No one said anything about it.

He looked to be in his early 30's, not very tall but physically fit. His arms were solid and defined where he rolled up his sleeves, and Charlie could spy a scar on the crook of his arm, a puncture wound of some sort. He had a kind, youthful face and the greenest eyes Charlie had ever seen. They crinkled a little when he smiled.

"Good evening Marge, cheif Swan," Mr. Dobbit said warmly after glancing at Charlie's badge pinned to his chest. Apparently he knew Marge enough now to call her by her first name even though he was new in town. Marge always insisted to be called by her title when she had the uniform on, but instead of correting him, she giggled. Marge never giggled. But Mr. Dobbit was foriegn, and exotic, and admittedly very handsome, so Charlie didn't blame her too much.

"Good evening Mr. Dobbit," Charlie said with a nod. He just wanted to get the coffees and go, but he didn't want to be rude. He was surprised that the people behind him were being so patient, apparently curious as to what their hardened cheif's favorite sweet might be. They were going to be disappointed since Charlie didn't have one.

"Please, call me Silvan," Mr. Dobbit said.

"Silvan," Charlie corrected, nodding again.

"I see what you mean," Silvan said to his son, his green eyes trailing up and down Charlie just like Teddy had done. Charlie didn't know what the hell they saw, all he wanted was his damn coffee, but he tolerated their little game as long as he could. His fingers clenched in his pocket and his thumb scratched against his ring finger, searching for the wedding band that wasn't there anymore. It was a nervous gesture he had picked up shortly after marrying Renee that stayed with him even after the divorce.

Suddenly Silvan snapped his fingers and exclaimed, "I have it!" he reached for the list in Charlie's hand and Charlie let him take it. "Your orders will be ready in a moment, and if I mistaken yours, Cheif, than it will be free of charge."

That didn't sit right with Charlie. It seemed like a very bad idea to give away that much coffee away for free just on a guess, which he would get wrong because Charlie didn't eat sweets. But before he could protest Marge pulled him away to wait at the side counter for their orders.

A carrier was prepared, and slowly filled as father and son finished each specialty cup, the names of whose order it was written on the side to avoid confusion. The last to come was Chalie's, _Cheif _written on the side in big bold letters, and with it came a square of dark chocolate on a piece of wax paper.

Charlie frowned at it. "I don't like chocolate." he said.

Silvan just smiled and pushed it across the counter towards him. "You just haven't found the right one," his said smoothly with a quiet but firm confidence, "humor me. If you don't like it the coffee is on the house."

"Come on, it won't kill you." Marge urged from beside him. Nearly everyone in line gave him an expectant look but quickly averted their gaze once Charlie shot them a scowl. He directed the scowl at Marge as well but she merely grinned at him. That was why they were partners after all, she was the only one with balls enough not to be scared of Charlie. The fact that she didn't possess any was a constant source of amusement back at the station.

Forcing himself not to roll his eyes Charlie took the offered chocolate. He kept his face carefully blank as he plopped the square in his mouth, humoring the whole store as they watched with bated breath. Ridiculous. He bit on it quickly to get the ordeal over with, but as the chocolate gave way to his teeth he jerked in surprise and stopped completely. Almost immediately the pieces began to melt on his tongue from the heat of his mouth alone. Whereas he had found chocolate to be chalky and far too sweet, the taste was smooth, velvety, and surprisingly but pleasantly bitter. And then suddenly it began to tingle as he rolled the flavor around in his mouth, a sensuous sort of burn all along his tongue. It flowed down his throat like slow moving bittersweet lava as he swallowed, soft yet intense at the same time. Charlie closed his eyes and savored it.

When he opened them again he found Silvan smiling at him. It wasn't a smug triumphant smile, it held no trace of arrogance, only amusement and pure pleasure, as if Charlie's unexpected enjoyment was the greatest payment he'll ever need. His green eyes sparkled with laughter, and for a moment Charlie was stunned.

Silvan offered the cup with _Chief _written on it to Charlie so he accepted it, his limbs moving on auto-pilot. He took a gulp of the coffee, hot but not hot enough to scald. It was straight up black coffee, no cream, no sugar, no fussy foam or shots of flavor. It was the best coffee Charlie ever had. The heat of the liquid flared the burn of the chocolate, and instead of washing away the taste it mixed with it, robust coffee and bittersweet chocolate swirling into a whole different concoction together right in his mouth. It was absolutely delicious.

When Charlie swallowed he only had one thing to say. "Woah."

Marge laughed and the waiting customers in line looked visibly impressed. Charlie certainly was.

"What was that?" Charlie asked. Silvan smiled wider, behind him Teddy with his outrageously pink apron snickered.

"Dark chocolate sprinkled with red chili pepper," Silvan answered. "I call it my Aztec chocolate."

Marge chuckled, "You've done it again," she said to Silvan, to Charlie she said, "Well pay the man already, before the coffee gets cold."

Charlie pulled out the money and forked over the cash. They left with 6 pipping hot coffees, half a dozen scones to share, and a bar of dark Aztec chocolate. Charlie also left a hefty tip in the tip jar.

Teddy waved as they passed through the door out into the rain, "Come back again soon!"

Charlie knew he would as he let another piece of chocolate melt on his tongue.

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><p>Just a slight suggestion for reviews, I would appreciate it if you tell me what you liked about the chapter, what you didn't like, and how I could possibly improve, instead of simply begging me to update quicker. I am lazy, that tactic will not work.<p> 


	3. New Friends in Wet and Squishy Places

So it's been forever since I've updated, and in that time I've gotten more reviews than I know what to do with. So answers to all of your questions...

I only saw a small part of the movie Chocolat, but indeed their guessing is inspired from that. I don't know if it's magic, we'll figure that one out later.

The vampires are coming soonish. Not really. But they'll be in the story. Somewhere.

Bella will also be in the story.

Thank you for liking the apron.

I happen to love guys with long hair.

This will be a slow romance.

Sorry for taking so long.

I'll try to work on my chapter length.

There will be typos.

**New Friend's in Wet and Squishy Places**

It's raining again.

It always seemed to be raining. An ocean's worth of water falling from the sky every day of the week, but instead of flooding the land the trees gorge themselves on the excess, slurping on it so they grow tall and wide and fat. All of them sweating with moss. Their leaves glow with vibrancy, their veins over-saturated with life in every shade of emerald possible and impossible. Each one caught the rain drops like little cups, steadily, filling up until they overflowed and tipped their contents down on the young man walking by their roots, a mini storm softly raging on his uncovered, and just as vibrantly green, head.

Teddy didn't mind, though, as the rain soaked into his clothes, making his long green hair stick to his neck, his jeans cling to his skin and his socks squish in his trainers as he walked his bicycle through the trees. Fingers numb, nose running and cheeks flushed bright red, Teddy grinned as he watched his breath condense in front of him. He thought to himself, _what a grand way to start the summer_.

Teddy loved the sun and the sand and the ocean spray. The evidence was etched right into the golden brown of his skin, but there was always a little part of him who could never let go of the memories of a bright red umbrella, and an excited chill throughout his body, and stomping triumphantly in puddles with his da. Until the flashing cameras had ruined it. They could never go back to London, but this, Teddy supposed, was a good a place as any to start over again.

This was no Greece for sure, nor Italy, nor Spain. But the place had a charm of its own. It seemed the world had forgotten about little old Forks hidden away in the trees, sitting on the edge of America all on it's lonesome. Secluded. That's what da wanted, and he got it. And as long as da was happy, Teddy was happy. And da was, finally! The bakery was doing da wonders, keeping him busy, keeping his mind off things, letting him make plans and be excited about the next day. The old man was even singing again.

He's been wanting to open up a bakery since forever, and Teddy finally managed to convince him, new town, new life and all. It wasn't like they needed the money since da sold all the Potter-Black properties. They were swimming in cash, drowning in it in fact. So why not spend it on something that da wanted? He's sacrificed enough already. It's time he had something of his own, to have a life.

To not have to run anymore.

Teddy's seen the worry lines etched on da's face, the white hairs sprouting on his head. It scared Teddy to see his da age so fast in front of him. It was running that was killing him. They needed a home, and this was it. No more running, they were here to stay.

As if the place was agreeing with him, his feet sunk into the squishy earth as he plodded along, trying to steal his shoes and make him stay awhile as he pried himself out with every squelchy step. Water sprung up from the ground and pooled in the foot prints he left behind. He suspected if he stood still for a moment of two, the mud would just swallow him up and he'd sink to the center of the earth where all the fossils slept, and somehow that was a comforting feeling.

Laboring through the mud and twisted roots of the trees he finally found a road, black and shiny like the back of a snake slithering through a marsh. With a swift grin he hitched up his sagging pants and mounted his bicycle, ready to peddle home after his failed attempt at a morning ride. Da will have conniption once he sees Teddy soaked to the bone with mud splattered up to his knees. Teddy'll just have to make him an extra big pot of chamomile tea when he gets back.

"No baby, please, please don't do this to me!" Jacob begged as he twisted the key in the ignition. The transmission gave a great stuttering groan, sputtering as the engine refused to respond. Jacob rocked in his seat, as if his jostling could nudge the dead 1953 Chevrolet Pickup Truck back to life. It didn't.

He let out a shout of frustration and slammed his hands against the steering wheel. He glared desperately at the dim dashboard. Nothing happened. Jacob held on for a few more seconds, and then crumpled over in defeat. He fell sideways on the truck bench, the seat belt straining against his shoulder as it hit it's limit.

He gave a long mournful sound.

Blood, sweat, and tears. This is what the truck was made of. Blood from his endless nights of scraping knuckles against unforgiving metal. Sweat from a whole winter of shoveling snow to pay for the parts the truck needed. And now here came the tears.

He thought she was ready. She had made it out of driveway without a hitch, rumbled her way down the street no problem, sailed past the neighborhood like a dream, only to die the moment he left La Push. Right on the side of the road. In the rain.

Jacob could almost hear the sound of his sister's laughter mixed into the pattering rain.

He took a deep breath in, spat out the long black hair that got into his mouth, and hauled himself up. As mom always used to say, 'Crying and bitching never fixed anything.'

Gathering up his hair Jacob tied it in a loose pony tail before pulling his hood up over his head. He grabbed the flash light from the glove box, popped the hood, braced himself for the cold, and then tumbled out.

The rain hit Jacob like a wave and his clothes did nothing to shield him from the chilly wind. He shivered as he slammed the door shut and shuffled his way towards the front of the truck, the metal painful to touch as he lifted the hood to look at its insides. "Come on baby, tell me what's wrong." he muttered quietly as he snapped on the light.

The rain made a multitude of sounds as it hit the different metals and plastics that was the truck's organs, hissing occasionally on hot metal. With careful fingers, Jacob methodically checked anything that would prevent the engine from working. Which, unfortunately, was a long list of things. Quickly his fingers turned numb as he jammed them between tight crevices, tugged at hoses and pipes, checked and rechecked wires and connections, but for the life of him he could not find what was wrong.

The rain had soaked into his hoodie by now, and he shivered all the harder as the water ran down his back and into his pants. He bounced on the balls of his feet and made long drawn out noises, choreographing a variation of the timeless dance of freezing one's ass off.

Jacob knew it was time to call it quits, but he did not want to call Rachel to come pick him up. She's been calling his baby truck a heap of trash since the day he rescued her from the junkyard, he didn't want to give his smug sister the satisfaction of being proven right.

"Need help?"

Jacob did not quite scream, but the noise he made couldn't be classified as manly either. He threw up his arms, the flash light thrown up into the air as he stumbled away from the truck and the stranger that had suddenly popped up beside it.

Apparently he wasn't the only one who was startled since the person let out a similar scream, jerked back to avoid getting hit in the face with the flash light, and promptly fell over and landed hard with a thump and a clunk. The clunk coming from the mountain bike he was riding. The flashlight clattered on the asphalt and rolled under the truck.

"Ow," said the stranger.

"Oh damn, sorry!" Jacob said as heat rushed to his cheeks from adrenaline, and for a moment intensely glad that he hadn't beam the guy in the head. "You alright man?"

"Peachy keen," the stranger answered as he pulled his leg out from under the bike. His muddy jean caught on the pedal making him stumble as he half hopped, half tripped back into a standing position. "Got all my limbs, I think." he said, and then squeezed the water out of his shirt. Jacob didn't think there was much of a point. The boy looked like he had just pulled himself out of a lake.

A head taller than Jacob but seeming about the same age, the stranger was completely under-dressed for the weather as he stood soaking wet in a grey t'shirt that claimed he was a "Lovable Stoner" and faded jeans that was only holding on by the grace of his Batman belt. His shoes might have been converse all stars under the layer of mud but it was difficult to tell. His hair, clingy and twisted from the water, hung nearly to his waist and was... green.

That was no trick of the light Jacob confirmed. It was really, really green. Radioactive green. Neon high lighter green. Green light when the aliens abduct you green. Just. So. Very. Green.

"Nearly got me there," the stranger said as he pulled said green hair over his shoulder and brushed the gravel out of it.

Jacob started when he realized he was staring, and he gave a small laugh. "Sorry, sorry. Didn't expect a forest sprite to jump out and scare me."

The stranger leaned over and set up his bike, pulling the kick stand with his foot, "Dryad, actually." he corrected with an accent that Jacob just noticed. "Call me Teddy," he said as he extended a tan hand out to Jacob.

"There's a difference?" Jacob asked as he shook Teddy's hand. It was freezing, and also just a few shades lighter than Jacob's russet skin.

"Sprites have a tendency to steal and break man made contraptions. I, my good fellow, reassure you I am here to do neither." Teddy said with a smile.

Jacob laughed, the other's accent and way of speaking reminding him of Monty Python. "My name's Jacob, but my Indian name is Breaks-Down-When-It-Pours."

"Bollocks," Teddy said with a little frown of sympathy, "is it the engine?" he asked as he walked over to the popped hood and looked in, his hands politely folded behind his back. Good thing too. Jacob hated nothing more than some jack ass touching his baby without even asking.

"You know about cars?" Jacob asked with a raised brow, a little incredulous. Most people couldn't fix their toasters, let alone their own cars, but for some reason when a hood was popped every guy in the vicinity perked up and tried to prove their handy manliness even if they didn't know jack shit about engines.

Teddy shrugged his shoulders. "Back when I lived in Greece my neighbor rented out mopeds to the tourists," he explained. "He let me fix up the ones that broke down. After a while he'd let me help him work on his old Ferrari."

Both of Jacob's brows rose, catching on the word Ferrari like a starving dog on a bone. He decided he liked this guy. "What model?" he asked.

Teddy leaned back and fixed Jacob with a eye just a tad darker green than his hair, there was a gleam to it. "308GTS," he answered.

"No way!" Jacob said with a laugh, "You're shitting me man. The car from Magnum P.I. first season?"

Teddy grinned. "I shit you not my friend. He even looked like Tom Selleck. Had the hawaiian shirts and mustache and everything."

Jacob laughed, and for a moment forgot the cold.

- 30 Minutes Later -

Charlie popped another piece of Aztec chocolate in his mouth, the burn of it helping him warm up in the freezer that was his squad car. He really needed Jacob to look at his heater system since those idiots at Jiffy Lube didn't do jack shit about it. And speaking of Jacob, the poor kid was probably freezing his tail off in this weather. Of course he had to wait for a day when it was pouring cats and dogs to break down on the side of the narrowest and most pot hole riddled road in the county, making Charlie drive out in the middle of his shift behind his warm and comfortable desk.

The things he did for family.

Luckily the rain had turned into a light drizzle 10 minutes after Charlie climbed in behind the wheel. He turned down the windshield wipers spastic flailing into something less distracting as he squinted into the grey and green world that was Forks and searched for that spot of rusted red that was Jacob's obsession for the past year.

He found it on a sharp bend in the road, the graveled shoulder barely big enough to fit the old truck. Coming up from behind, Charlie slowly cruised past it to park in front of the vehicle. He turned on his police lights to warn any speed devils to slow the fuck down so they wouldn't hit his best friend's kid and honorary nephew.

Charlie zipped his jacket up to his neck and slid out of his squad car, expecting to find a frustrated Jacob banging around the insides of the truck. Instead he found the hood closed, Jacob sitting atop of it, leaning back against the wind shield while talking to a green headed boy sitting beside him.

Charlie frowned. This was unexpected.

Both of the teenagers sat up when Charlie walked over. "Hey Charlie." Jacob said.

"Hey Chief," the boy said with a wave, and Charlie finally recognized him. Silvan's boy. What was his name? Thomas? Travis? Teddy? That's it, Teddy.

"What the hell happened to your head?" Charlie asked.

Teddy grinned happily. "Dyed it. You like?" he asked.

"No." Charlie answered. It looked like the boy had dipped his head in a vat of radioactive waste. The long hair he could deal with but this... He knew he wouldn't stand for it if his Bella ever did that with her hair. Thank goodness she wasn't into that teenager rebellious crap.

Teddy shrugged nonchalantly, "To each his own."

Charlie shook his head, "What are you two doing out in the rain?" he asked, a little exasperated. He could feel the chill creeping through his jacket.

"Thought to take a morning ride on my bicycle, get the lay of the land y'know. Got a little lost along the way and came across poor Breaks-Down-When-It-Pours." Teddy explained as he slid off the hood of the car.

"I meant why weren't you waiting in the cab." Charlie clarified.

"Didn't want to get the upholstery wet," Jacob answered as he slipped off as well. "Genuine leather."

"Hell to get stains out of," Teddy added, and then stopped short as music began to play out of his rear. It was an electric guitar rendition of The Candy Man Can from the Willy Wonka movie. The old one with Gene Wilder. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a bright yellow cell phone, grimacing as a he looked at the screen. "Mi scusi," he said to Charlie and Jacob and walked away as he answered the phone. "Hey da..."

Charlie blinked, and then turned back to Jacob, "You call someone to tow it already?"

"Yep, I think that's him right now." Jacob said as a tow truck rumbled it's way down the road. The man driving it was Mr. Ateara IV, Jacob's cousin on his mother's side and the man who had voluntarily towed the old truck to Jacob's garage. There was much sympathy given as the large set man hooked on the Chevi and raised it on it's back wheels. 20 minutes later Jacob watched mournfully as his truck was dragged back home like an injured animal.

Charlie laid a hand on Jacob's shoulder. He knew how much that car meant to Jacob. It must have been like watching his first dog being put down. Poor kid. "You okay?" he asked.

Jacob took in a long breath and then let it out slowly. "Yeah," he said reluctantly. "Just thought she was ready this time."

"You'll get it eventually, Jacob. If anyone could fix up that old thing, it's you." Charlie reassured. He hated to see Jacob so down trodden. He was always a happy kid, but his mother's death had hit him hard. It was working on the truck that helped him start smiling again.

Jacob gave a soft snort. "If I had the funds, yeah sure." No doubt counting how many lawns he had to mow in his head.

Teddy finally returned from his phone call, "Well, I'm a goner." he said with a grim smile as he took a hold on the handles of his bike.

"What? Why?" Jacob asked.

"Da's right ticked off I left without a coat." Teddy replied, and his smile turned sheepish, "And that I got lost. And that I left without telling him. And that I put my cellular on silent so that I didn't catch any of his calls. A multitude of things."

Teddy kicked up the stand and mounted his bike. "Gotta trek it home before he worries himself to death. Or calls you." he said as he pointed to Charlie.

"But you were gonna come over and help me..." Jacob said with a forlorn expression.

"Next time, cross my heart." Teddy said as he literally crossed his heart. "Just gotta do damage control first. Da's a paranoid sort, y'know. I'll phone you." he said with an apologetic smile and geared up to pedal away.

Charlie sighed. "Wait, wait. I'll take you in my squad car." he said. If the kid had gotten himself lost all the way out here a good 10 miles from town it would be irresponsible to leave him to find his way back. Plus it seemed Jacob had made a friend, and he really couldn't let one of Jacob's friend stay out here dripping wet in the cold.

Teddy froze with a one foot on a pedal. "Really?" he asked with a growing smile.

"Yeah. Just hook up your bike in the back." Charlie said. He had installed a bike holder onto his squad car back when Renee was worried about his weight. It was a compromise of sorts. He refused to take on a gym membership, and she would not have him exercising in the house, so he took to mountain biking. More than took it on. He had become obsessed with it. He brought his bike every where with him, even did a marathon. But when Renee left his love for biking had plummeted to nonexistence, but even after all these years he still hadn't removed the hooks.

Lucky for Teddy.

"Thanks Chief." Teddy said happily, and between the three of them they got the bike secured with ease.

The two sopping wet teenagers slid into the back seat, Jacob usually sat up in the front with Charlie but decided to stick with his new found friend.

As Charlie turned off the police lights and turn the keys in the ignition he heard Teddy say to Jacob, "Back seats of american police cars look a lot different from the European ones."

Charlie sat up and looked at the green haired kid through the rear view mirror.

Teddy laughed and held up his hands. "I tease, I tease." he said with a grin.

Jacob snickered.

Charlie scowled. He was beginning to suspect that this kid was going to be a bad influence.

* * *

><p>I apologize for my laziness. Yelling at me though will not help.<p>

**Edit**

Fixed the name of Charlie's wife. I confused myself because I kept on thinking Renesmee, and I was like noooo that aint right. Thats the freaking vampire half mutant named after the both of them, but couldn't remember which one was which. Thanks for pointing it out.

Renesmee is a dumb name, but I like her on the fact that she broke Bella's spine.


	4. Puddles and Tea

Yes, I know, a very long time. But I've updated, so stop yelling. As I told you before, it doesn't help.

The characters are not mine. If they were I would have written the books better and made sure everyone received a personality.

* * *

><p><strong>Puddles and Tea<strong>

Charlie was fairly sure Jacob and Teddy were speaking English back there, but he didn't understand a word of it. They were talking cars and engines, and that was a dialect Charlie had never picked up on.

He tuned out the pros and cons of a V8 engine versus a...whatever, and concentrated on the wet road as it had started to pour again.

It took some thirty minutes of traversing the windy roads of Forks to get back into the town proper, and another ten to find the little brick box that was Mr. Dobbit's shop and home. All the while the boys yammered on nonstop. Don't get Charlie wrong, Jacob making another friend was a wonderful thing, absolutely marvelous. So marvelous that it grated on Charlie's ears like broken glass and nails.

Jacob was a kid who tended to talk with his hands and raise his volume when he was excited. Teddy seemed to be of the same breed, and putting the two of them together in an enclosed space resulted in a lot of bouncing, flailing, and near shouting. Like two giant hamsters hyped up on crack.

Marvelous.

So Charlie was more than thankful to arrive at the bakery in short order, proud of the fact that he hadn't turned around and told the two to play the silent game. One, it was a very old man thing to do. And two, it never worked with Bella when she was 5, so no way in hell was it going to work on Jacob at 15.

Charlie parked and the two blathermouths finally quieted. "Well here we go." Charlie said.

Teddy leaned forward and smiled at Charlie through the protective gate, "Thanks for the ride Chief."

"You live here?" Jacob asked as he stared out the window at the bakery. "My sis has been going crazy over this place! She keeps on bringing home these awesome chocolate ...um...what's it? Kinda like a twinky but not?"

Teddy frowned. "What's a twinky?"

Jacob looked to Teddy, absolutely shocked, "You don't know what a twinky is?"

"No... Should I?" the green haired boy asked, his eyes flicking towards Charlie. "Is that a euphemism you American blokes have?"

"No, no it's a snack." Jacob explained. "The thing Rachel brought home were like twinkies. Well, not like twinkies. More like ho ho's."

Teddy snickered.

"It's this long thing filled with cream, and there's chocolate on top." Jacob expounded, using his hands to help describe the treat.

Charlie rolled his eyes as Teddy snickered harder. "He's talking about eclairs."

Jacob snapped his fingers. "There you go. Eclairs. They're sooooo good."

"Well, we got some, if you want any." Teddy offered as he recovered form his bout of giggles. "And I'm sure da has already brewed some coffee." he said looking to Charlie, an invitation clear on his face.

On a cold Saturday morning with nothing but a few pieces of chocolate in his stomach and a couple of gulps of the swill they call coffee at the station, a real cup of joe sounded like heaven to Charlie. Never mind that the sign said closed. The lights were on, and he could see Silvan though the window, working on something with a piping bag in his hand. It wouldn't be intruding if the man was up and already working, right?

Charlie turned back to see both boys staring at him with the largest puppy eyes he's ever seen. Jacob had perfected the look when he was 5, but after 10 years the adorableness of it had faded with his strong, regal native american features coming in. Nevertheless it still worked on Charlie. He could never deny those mournful brown eyes. Adding Teddy's round watery green stare, there was no way Charlie could refuse.

"Yeah fine," he sighed, and like twins both boys threw up their hands and whooped in triumph. Charlie already knew they were going to be inseparable.

And so the lot tumbled out of the car and raced up the path to get out of the relentless rain. It seemed it was going to be one of those endless torrents that last for weeks on end. A little odd for June to most people, but in Forks they were lucky to get uninterrupted sun for 5 days in a row.

They crowded by the bright red door, shielded by the festive awning above it as Teddy knocked. Apparently he had forgotten his keys. The door opened almost immediately, the door should have creaked ominously but the well oiled hinges were silent as a glaring Silvan Dobbit received his wayward son. Charlie was surprised there hadn't been a crack of lightning, it would have completed the baker's impressive glower.

Jacob winced in sympathy but Teddy just smiled in the face of his father's ire. _The boy has no sense of self preservation _Charlie thought to himself as he kept his distance, glad that scowl wasn't directed at him. It was a little startling to see that the kind smiling man Charlie remembered from the week before could also be this angry, frankly intimidating father before him now.

Kids. The one thing that could rankle a person without fail.

"Hiya da!" Teddy said cheerfully. He continued to smile as Silvan took him by the shoulders and pulled him inside.

"Do you have any idea how worried I was? Why didn't you pick up your cellular? I almost called the police!" the man exclaimed, his voice strung high with worry and anxiety.

Teddy's smile widened further. He lifted his arms up with a beguiling innocent look and asked, "Hug?"

Silvan scowl deepened and he took a step back. "No," he said firmly. Silvan was wearing his black work apron, already dusted with flour and frosting. Teddy was dripping puddles on the wooden floor.

Teddy grinned and took a step foward with his arms still outstretched, reaching for his father like some giant toddler. "Hug?" he repeated.

"No! Theodore! Don't you even-!" Silvan exclaimed, but his angry parent persona cracked as a smile tugged at his lip. Teddy was not deterred and lunged for the older man. Silvan cried out as the wet teenager caught him around the middle and held on tight. Silvan burst into laughter.

And just like that, the tense atmosphere diffused.

"Bloody hell, Teddy!" Silvan said, smiling as he wrapped his arms around his taller son. "You're freezing. What were you thinking going out cycling in this weather?"

Teddy grinned as he pulled back and shrugged his boney shoulders, leaving a wet spot on his father's chest, "Just getting the lay of the land," he said.

Silvan gave his son a narrow eyed unamused look. "Be sure to bring a bloody coat next time," he said, and turned to Jacob and Charlie who were still standing on the other side of the door awkwardly.

"And I see you brought friends. Come in, come in, before you catch your death." he said with a disarming smile, motioning them inside. Jacob shuffled in first followed closely by Charlie who shut the door behind them. It seemed the friendly chocolatier had returned.

"If you haven't figured it out by now, I'm Teddy's father." Silvan said with a grin as he held out his hand to Jacob.

"Uh, Jacob Black, sir," Jacob replied sheepishly as he took Silvan's hand and gave a firm shake.

"What were you two doing, dancing out there?" Silvan exclaimed with a laugh. Jacob was just as soaked as Teddy and the two of them were making an impressive puddle on Silvan's floor. Jacob grimaced at the mess, chagrined.

"It's alright," Silvan said kindly, "Take off your shoes and go on upstairs where you can dry off."

Teddy obeyed instantly while Jacob followed tentatively. It reminded Charlie of the first time Jacob came to his house to play with Bella. The usually boisterous boy shuffled shyly at the doorway, unsure in a new place until Bella took him by the hand and they raced away to play. Teddy nudged Jacob's arm instead of taking his hand but it had the same effect nonetheless.

Their wet socks made faint squelching sounds as they ran to the back room and up the stairs, leaving a wet trail behind them. Their muddy shoes left on the welcome mat.

"Thank you for bringing my son home, Chief Swan," Silvan said as he pulled out the mop conveniently propped beside the door.

"Call me Charlie, most everyone else does," Charlie said as he stepped out of the way, "It was the least I could do. The boy was half way to the La Push Reservation."

Silvan sighed and shook his head, "I swear I have never seen anyone with a worse sense of direction. I'd buy him a GPS but he'd end up losing it," he said with trace exasperation as his muscled arms pushed the mop rhythmically back and forth.

"Does he do that often?" Charlie asked. "Getting lost I mean?" As the Police Chief, Charlie needed to keep tabs on everyone in his town to ensure their safety and comfort. If Teddy was prone to wandering, Charlie would know to stop and check on him if he saw the boy out on his bike again.

"Ever since he was little," Silvan said as he surveyed the floor for any spots he missed. He seemed pleased with it and so propped the mop back in it's place. He then went back behind the counter where he had been working.

"Near gave me a heart attack every time I brought him...hell, anywhere." Silvan said with a chuckle, "He always had to go explore. Coffee?"

"Hmm? Oh yes." Charlie said. He was so busy trying to figure out what in the world Silvan was making that he almost didn't hear the man. They might have been cupcakes, they were the right size for them, but they were a far cry from the brightly colored sugar bombs he's seen in the store.

First of all it they were light green, which Charlie had never seen before and had no idea what flavor they might be, and secondly it looked like a work of art. The frosting was piped out as petals that formed an elegant white chrysanthemum, and in the center sat a tiny red chocolate lady bug. It was so beautifully done that Charlie couldn't believe that it was suppose to be edible. It looked like a decoration you would put in a little girls room, like a jewelry box. No way was that food!

Silvan noticed that he was staring and with a little smile picked up one of the delicate creations and offered it to Charlie. "Here, have one." he said.

Charlie took the supposed cupcake. It didn't smell like the sugary things Charlie was familiar with, but it did have that fresh out of the oven smell. He turned it carefully in his large fingers, careful not to touch the perfect petals, and frowned. "Um... how do I eat it?" It seemed a shame to ruin it.

Silvan laughed. It was a bright handsome sound, just like everything else about the man. Silvan picked up another in his hand and carelessly brushed his thumb against one side, destroying the flower. He stuck his finger in his mouth and shrugged. "Just, y'know... eat it." he said after he sucked the frosting off, leaving his thumb shiny and clean.

Charlie found himself unable to argue, so he opened his mouth wide and took a bite, hoping the frosting didn't get into his mustache. It was not like any cupcake Charlie had ever eaten before. It was moist but did not cloyingly stick to the roof of his mouth like the regular store bought variation did. The icing was smooth and creamy and did not get stuck in his teeth as he thought it would. But most of all, it was not sweet. That surprised the hell out of Charlie, as cupcakes to his knowledge was nothing but sweet. Instead he came across an almost floral, subtle taste, with traces of... citrus, and just a touch of salt in the cream.

Just like with the Aztec chocolate, Charlie had closed his eyes to savor the flavors, and just like before when he opened them, Silvan was there smiling at him.

"What is this?" Charlie asked and wiped at his mouth and mustache, self conscious that he got frosting in there.

"It's my chrysanthemum tea cup cake," Silvan said as he plucked the lady bug off of his.

Charlie frowned. "Wait... a flower?" he asked.

Silvan nodded. "Yes."

"A flower tea..." Charlie reiterated.

Silvan nodded again.

"In a cup cake..." his voice flat in near disbelief.

"Indeed." Silvan said with a growing grin.

Charlie looked down at the cup cake and took another bite. "You sure this is a sweets shop?" he asked after he swallowed.

Silvan laughed his bright ringing laugh.

* * *

><p>American's have weird names for their snacks.<p>

As I said before, when you review, tell me what you like, what you don't like, and what I can improve.


	5. I do Believe in Fairies, I do, I do

No, this story is not dead. I apologize for taking so long and worrying you that I had stopped writing, but don't worry, I'm still trekking...slowly.

Meanwhile thank you all for your wonderful, wonderful reviews.

This story is set a year or so before Bella comes in, so she won't be around for a long while, but the Cullens are around, but not right now.

Aztec Chocolate is a real thing.

I'm not sure about Chrysanthemum Tea cupcakes existing, but I do know green tea cupcakes exist, so it's not a stretch of imagination that it could be possible too.

No, Jacob did not imprint on Teddy.

But they're still friends without it.

I'm not all sold on this whole imprinting thing anyway.

Might just scrap it all together.

Harry will not be the new Willy Wonka, magical or otherwise, kind of defeats the purpose of them leaving the wizarding world.

They won't be making vampire friendly food for the same reasons.

They're kinda avoiding the whole magic thing altogether, y'know.

Still a slow romance.

Emphasis on slow.

Subtle too. Though I hope it's not so subtle you have to squint to see it.

And again, thank you so much for reading and waiting so patiently.

Also I've gone ahead in a slight time skip to get the story rolling a bit. But there's still a lot of back story.

There is a point to it, you'll see eventually.

* * *

><p>I Do believe in Fairies, I do, I do, I do<p>

Patrols were a necessary evil in Forks. It was not a very highly populated town, but it was a sprawling one with roads that had a tendency to wander, twisting around bands of trees, rolling along hillsides, following the curvature of the land instead of cutting through it. It was easier for the road makers to lay down the asphalt where the pioneers had walked, to take the natural meandering paths carved out by feet that had found the way of least resistance. More cost effective to go around the trees rather than cut them down, keeping the Forest Preserve and all the other tree huggers out there happy, but it was hell on the commute.

Point A and point B might only be 10 miles apart on the map, but it would take a better part of an hour getting there with all the dips and curves and hills and cliffs one had to traverse through, not to mention the fluctuating speed limits posted at every one of those obstacles one had to adhere to in order to arrive at point B safely. And then one had to account the cool wet weather of Washington, the constant overcast skies and the dimness of tree shade and the nearly endless rain that played havoc on visibility and tire traction and the state of the road.

Over 75% of emergency calls to the police station were reports of a car crash, usually in the hilly back roads where idiots took the speed warnings as laughable suggestions, or had brazenly thought that their cars could come to a dead stop with two inches of rain water standing on the asphalt.

Crime was low in Forks Washington, but motor accidents were high, and as long as people drive it always will be. So the county police take patrols on the roads with the highest accident rates and hand out 'driving too fast for conditions' tickets like they were party favors. The job is tedious, arduous, and down right mind numbingly boring, but it had to be done even if it did nothing to change the yearly crash reports, and though he was the Chief, Charlie was not exempt from it.

He took the duty without complaint as he always did, though a small thoughtful frown marred his face as he cruised through the drizzling rain that fine Tuesday morning. It was an expression he unknowingly adopted when his mind wandered in quiet moments like these, and since he was alone in his chilly squad car without even the crackle of the police scanner to distract him, he allowed his thoughts to roam freely.

They turned as fluid and as round about as the road he was patrolling. Idly he wondered if it would be worth making dinner with the meager ingredients fermenting in his fridge or if he should risk his already disconcertingly high cholesterol count by grabbing another burger at the Country Kitchen. He remembered the small leak in his roof, and left himself a mental note to rope in Jacob sometime tomorrow to help him fix it before it became a bigger problem. He left another note to do the laundry after catching a whiff of the less than fresh smell of his shirt. And then, as it had been happening increasingly these past few weeks, his thoughts strayed to the newest addition to the Forks' population, Mr. Dobbit.

_"Please," a soft voice, a slow smile, bright forest green eyes, "call me Silvan."_

Charlie remembered how the whole town buzzed with intrigue when the FOR SALE sign had been taken out of the dingy broken window of the old Appleton's place. The house had stood empty for so long that it would have been condemned if the city counsel hadn't pegged it as a historical building. Being as it may, the city could not find the funds or a contractor willing to restore the place.

Even though the Appleton's hadn't committed suicide inside the building, it had been labeled haunted ever since the late 70's when the middle aged couple had taken the leap. Charlie had only been ten back then, but he remembered the many times he rode on his bike by the place on his way to the grocer's and catching glimpses of Mrs. Appleton in the window, with her frizzy hair and large shiny eyes, scrapping at her canvas with bristling brushes as well as her long spindly fingers. Or Mr. Appleton, a man too tall and too thin to match the massive size of his hands and feet, sitting out in the overgrown yard, wearing his faded flannel pajamas and a beaten up safari hat as he furiously scribbled things in a half broken leather bound journal.

His mother had warned him to stay away from them. The Appleton's had been strange people, and their strangeness had stayed with the place long after their deaths, turning the building and their memories into one of Forks' many urban legends, just another boogy man story to join the rest. It was almost tradition for teenagers to dare each other to break into the Appleton's place and spend the night to test if it were truly haunted, and annually Charlie and the squad had to flush the building out and threaten a bunch of reckless adolescents with 'breaking and entering' charges. Of course it was just empty threats, kids will be kids, and technically the house didn't belong to anyone.

Until now.

Newness was an anomaly in Forks. Such a quiet town as theirs, tucked away in a forest in the dripping rain like a squatting toad, nothing much ever happened. And whenever something did, even if it was just the tiniest thing slightly different than the dreary grayness that marked each and every day...well, the whole damn town talked about it.

And Silvan, his son, and his bake shop were anything but gray and dreary. He might as well have turned the old Appleton's place into a fish bowl with how they gaped at him. It was not just that he was new, but he was _foreign_, handsome, and a single father to boot. He had taken something that no one wanted, the broken rotted tooth that was the Appleton's house, and, with tenacity, dedication, and no doubt a_ hell _of a lot of money, revived it into something beautiful and thriving, everybody's favorite sweet tooth

Of course, the Forks women were in an absolute frenzy, single or otherwise.

Charlie really couldn't blame them. There was something compelling about Silvan, more than just his good looks, achingly sweet British accent, and green, such impossibly green eyes. Charlie remembered the way his hands looked last Saturday, working while they had a friendly conversation about chrysanthemum tea cupcakes as the boys thumped around upstairs, getting dry.

Square nails, wide palms, fingers too short to be elegant but long enough that they were not blunt and stubby, the tips calloused and dusted with flour. They were neither remarkable nor strange looking hands, but they moved with incredible efficiency as he handled the piping bag, making such delicate things from such a temperamental material with absolute ease. Charlie noticed Silvan's steady hands were curiously scarred, a smattering of small white lines and dots along the knuckles, and a long patch of rippling pink skin upon the back of his right hand, an old burn mark from long ago, maybe from a hot oven. Must have hurt like hell.

It had made Charlie think about the first scar he had noticed when they met, the puncture mark in the crook of Silvan's arm that looked remarkably like a bullet wound. He was smart enough not to comment on it, but it made him wonder about how and why and when it had happened, who had done it, and where else on Silvan's body was he marked.

He hadn't dared comment on that either, so it had made him jump when Silvan suddenly said, "Of course you wouldn't ask."

"Excuse me?" Charlie had asked, startled.

Silvan then gave him that slow, dawning smile he was so good at giving. "You're the first one not to ask me if the place is actually haunted. Not the superstitious type, I'd wager."

Charlie, relieved that Silvan had not caught him staring, snorted. "No, no, I just know better."

Silvan had raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh?"

Charlie had shrugged and fiddled with his half eaten cupcake in his hands, "The place just has a bad reputation and well, people like to make up things, especially in a town as small as this." he explained, "I can't even imagine what people have been telling you."

It was Silvan's turn to shrug, adding an amused smile with the motion. "Devil worshipers, exorcisms, a serial killer with a hook for a hand. People seem to be very fond of the hook."

Charlie rolled his eyes because he knew exactly who had started that one. "Blame Jason Yorkie and too many underage beers on Halloween," he huffed. Jason Yorkie had been a senior in high school back then, graduated now and working as a cashier at the local grocery store until he had enough money for college.

Silvan chuckled. "I'll remember to ask him about that next time he comes in," he said. "he has a special weakness for saltwater taffy."

"You know him?" Charlie asked.

Silvan hummed as he shrugged his shoulders again, his surprisingly solid looking chest heaving slightly as he adjusted the bag in his hands. It still had a wet spot where Teddy had hugged him, making the black material cling to his skin. "As you said Charlie, it's a small town, and I like to pride myself in remembering all of my costumer's names."

Charlie couldn't help but be a little surprised, and a little impressed, just as he had been the first time he had met Silvan. The bakery had only been open for three weeks, but the introduction sure was compelling if Silvan and his son did in fact guess every single one of their customer's preferences and remembered them afterwards. Hell of a marketing campaign, the spread of word of mouth would make advertising virtually free.

"How do you do that?" Charlie blurted, still perplexed by it all. Charlie had been convinced all his life that he never liked sweets, but now he kept a bar of chocolate stashed in his glove apartment at all times.

Silvan had stopped in his work and looked up at him, a question in his green stare.

"The guessing," Charlie expounded, "how can you tell what somebody likes by just a glance?"

Silvan's gaze held for a long moment, searching, but for what Charlie couldn't tell. Then Silvan looked back down to his half decorated cupcake and continued on, an amused smile curling his lips.

"What would you say if I told you it was 'magic'?" he asked, the tone too light to be entirely serious but not enough to be mocking. Almost...flirtatious, if Charlie was hearing it right.

Charlie's brows furrowed. "I find that a little hard to believe."

Silvan chuckled, "So you don't believe in ghosts, and you don't believe in magic,"

Charlie raised his hand to pause Silvan's musings, "I never said that," he asserted.

Silvan finished frosting his cupcake and then started on another. "Then what do you believe in, Charlie?" he asked casually, but there was an odd ring to the words that made them sound more weighty than they should have been.

Charlie felt that the conversation had taken a suddenly more significant turn, that it had left the safe realm of small talk in a rush to trace the dangerous border of personal philosophies. An always touchy, passionate, and intimate subject that Charlie usually avoided. It has been Charlie's opinion that no matter what somebody believes in, someone else will always find it wrong, and that someone else will try to impose their own, higher beliefs on the first somebody to save them from their ignorance, which was why Charlie so rarely spoke of his own believes. He's been preached at by too many to think that seemingly innocent question was spoken out of curiosity instead of it being the verbal trap that it was.

But despite all that, Charlie found himself sitting up straighter, and felt compelled not only to answer, but to answer honestly and as eloquently as he could. Because for some damnable reason, he wanted to impress Silvan. Just a little.

"I believe," Charlie stated, "that everything and anything can be explained in time. Either through logic or science or whatever else, there is an answer to everything that happens, and all we have to do is find it. All the things that we don't understand now, like 'ghosts' or 'magic', we just haven't developed the tools to study it yet. So I won't say it exists or doesn't exist until it can be proven or disproven."

Silvan did not look up from his cupcake, but his hands had stopped moving. There was a beat of silence that felt...not heavy, but strange. Charlie's answer sounded wishy washy and non-committal to his own ears, so he brusquely tacked on, "But if you don't want to tell me your candy trick you don't have to. You can keep your secrets, I won't pry."

That made Silvan laugh, and the odd serious atmosphere faded away with the bright, cheery sound. Silvan smiled at him then, and Charlie felt he had passed some sort of test. It had eased him, that Silvan did not judge, and he found himself smiling back.

"So then, do you believe in 'ghosts' and 'magic'?" Charlie couldn't help but ask in return.

Silvan smile was wide and his eyes gleamed brightly as he answered, "Of course."

And even now, four days later Charlie was still thinking about the way Silvan had looked when he answered, so thoroughly amused and pleased, as if he knew something vital that Charlie didn't.

Unfortunately their conversation had been interrupted by a loud ruckus coming from upstairs, the wailing of guitar music and the crash of cymbals. Silvan invited Charlie up to investigate what the boys were doing, and Charlie might as well collect Jacob. They've imposed too long already.

He had expected to find the two teenagers to be playing video games, GarageBandHero or something obnoxious like that, only to be surprised to find Jacob behind an actual drum set with sticks in his hand and Teddy wailing away on an actual powder blue electric guitar hooked up to a little AMP. Both of them were wearing over-sized green sweaters and had their hair wrapped up in a towels.

They were both very disappointed that Jacob had to go.

There was a rush of exchanged phone numbers and facebooks, a quick promise of 'you better text!' and 'I am so friending you', before Charlie managed to get Jacob to the door. And even then Silvan had stopped Charlie to give him a box of chocolate eclairs and a cup of coffee to go, since he had completely forgotten about it during their conversation.

When Charlie offered to pay Silvan just declined and said, "Consider it a thank you for bringing my son home and letting him make a friend."

And well, after that, it would be rude to insist. So they said their farewells and they left, the boys making puppy dog eyes all the while. They were halfway to Jacob's house when Jacob found the bar of Aztec Chocolate secreted away inside the box, the bar which was now sitting on Charlie's dashboard, golden wrapper peeled back just enough to show the richly dark broken edges of the last two sections of it. It was a bright spot of glittering color in the dark gloom of his squad car interior.

It had made the long patrols almost bearable, enjoying the burning chocolate and thinking about what the secret bar could have meant, if Silvan's easy smiles and lilting words were actually flirtation, or him just being overly friendly, as British people were reputed to be. It was a little bewildering to Charlie actually. Don't get him wrong, Charlie had come to terms with his sexuality years and years ago. It wasn't the thing that had crumbled his marriage with Renee, it hadn't even been a factor since that particular identity crisis had come about two years after his ex-wife had taken Isabella away. She didn't have to deal with that emotional landslide at all, and instead his best friends, the poor bastards Billy Black and Harry Clearwater had to take the brunt of it all, and then slough through it to dig him out from all the carnage. He'd be in a darker place without those two, but that was a story for another time.

So after all the hullabaloo it was agreed Charlie stood on the ambiguously bisexual scale with slightly more leanings towards those with the y chromosome, and now, suddenly, a handsome and lovely gentleman was flirting with him through chocolates.

Or at least, Charlie thought it was flirting. Hope was a little bit too strong of a word, because for one, he wasn't entirely sure if Silvan was gay. Basing his sexuality on the fact that he was a baker would be stereotyping, and pretty prejudice to boot. And two, Silvan had a son, and that son surely had a mother. Charlie didn't see a wedding ring on Silvan, but that didn't mean there still wasn't a womanly presence around. And three, even if Silvan was gay, surely he wouldn't set his sights on Charlie.

Charlie, who hasn't been on a date in nearly a decade. Charlie, who couldn't interpret signs of attraction even if it was splayed out on a lit up billboard a hundred feet in the air. Charlie, who was nearing 45, with grey in his hair and a belly that was starting to roll over his belt. Charlie, who was less interesting than a slug, whose pastimes was a grand total of watching sports or fishing, which both required for him to sit and be silent for hour long stretches. Charlie, who has been out of the game so long flirtation was practically a foreign language to him.

But maybe it was Silvan just being friendly, and Charlie was working himself up over nothing. He has been ruminating on this, using the long patrols to let his mind review their conversations and brief interactions to see if there were any deeper meanings to Silvan's looks, his words, but after four days of avoiding the bakery he's come no closer to an answer. And worse yet, he was running low on chocolate.

So Charlie fished the last pieces of the spicy chocolate out of the wrapper and let them melt on his tongue, savoring it quietly. _Might as well bite the bullet_, Charlie thought to himself as he licked the traces off his finger. Maybe he'll just stop by after his shift, get some coffee and chocolate he'll actually pay for this time and strike up a friendly conversation. Maybe ask how Teddy is doing, ask about the mother. Maybe implement a few, subtle interrogation techniques, just a few, to get a better feel for the mysterious man that was Silvan.

With those tentative plans set in place, Charlie almost didn't notice the familiar bicycle dropped on it's side on the gravel right on the edge of the road, but he did notice the flash of long green hair, and the two boys that were pulling on it while another boy gave Teddy Dobbit a sound beating, just within the treeline.

* * *

><p>Stuff is going to happen, I can promise you that.<p>

GarageBandHero was what my dad mistakenly called GuitarHero, I thought it was hilarious

Tell me what you like, didn't like, and what I can improve.

Except, you know, the time between posts.

That I can't improve.

Sorry.


	6. Charlie to the Rescue

Since I personally really hate cliffhangers, I thought I'd spare you guys the agony and bang this out so you don't have to suffer for a half a year. You're welcome.

Someone helpfully pointed out that I made Charlie too old since in cannon he married Renee and had Isabella quite young. Also he never went to college. I've decided to change that and have Charlie be 29 when he met Renee since it pleases my plot bunnies and my image of Charlie. It was a whirl wind marriage in cannon, and having him older here really show cases just how much Renee's spontaneity affected him. I like to think she was the only wild decision Charlie had ever made, and he's still reeling from it, so many years later.

I also want to add that my Charlie did go to college, but he dropped out half way through due to his parent's failing health. I'm not sure what he was trying to major in, anyone have some suggestions?

Also, someone else asked why Harry changed his name and why Teddy didn't. Since I don't think I can add it to the story anywhere I'll just answer here.

Harry has always tried to be Just Harry, but the identity of himself has been tainted so much that he doesn't even know who Just Harry is (what with Voldemort in his head for so long, Dumbledore's manipulations, and the expectations of everybody heaped on him). Too much has happened in his life and he can no longer differentiate who he really is and the savior everyone has made him out to be. So he decided to have a clean slate and be whoever he wanted to be.

I chose the name Silvan because well...I just liked the name. Harry can arbitrarily like a name too without there having to be a reason.

And Teddy kept his name because it is one of the few things Remus and Tonks have given him. Harry can't bare to change it.

The reason Charlie could spot Teddy's hair in green green Forks is because he's a bad ass like that.

You'll just have to wait and see if Teddy turns into a wolf or not.

**Slight warnings** in this chapter though, mentions of homophobia, bigotry, and a brief panic attack.

* * *

><p><strong>Charlie to the Rescue<strong>

The three teenager boys dropped Teddy and took off running the second Charlie hit his siren just like he knew they would. It didn't matter, he already knew who they were. Robin Ferris never went anywhere without his trademark Letterman jacket, and his two best friends Jason Holts and Micky Dansworth never went anywhere Robin didn't tell them to go.

So he let the cowards tear off into the forest as he got out of his car. There was no point in chasing after them since Charlie knew exactly where they lived, and he was going to pay each one of them a visit, one that they would not forget.

Teddy was left gasping on the ground, curled up on his side clutching his tender stomach as he tried to catch the breath they had punched out of him. A trail of bright red blood flowed out of his nose and dribbled down to his chin, watered down to a light pink by the drizzling rain.

Charlie knelt beside him and placed a hand on his bony shoulder. "You alright, son?" he asked.

Teddy, still unable to speak, glanced at him with the bitter sort of angry shame that all boys suffer at not only being caught in a fight, but caught losing at it. A blow to the pride that was even worse than the actual physical pain.

Charlie remembered the feeling, and he knew Teddy wouldn't appreciate it if Charlie pointed out that there was no reason to be ashamed. Robin Ferris and his flunkies were the best line men on the high school football team, each one of them outweighing Teddy by an average of 100 lbs. Not only was he outmatched, but he was outnumbered. It wasn't a fair fight on any account, but boys will be boys, and there were no words to ease the sting of losing.

Charlie held in a sigh, and patiently waited for Teddy to recover. It took a long minute but eventually Teddy's breaths evened out, and he allowed Charlie to help him sit up.

"Take it easy," Charlie said, his hand on Teddy's shoulder to steady him, "You gonna be okay? You think you need to visit the ER?"

"M'fine," Teddy said mulishly and shrugged out of Charlie's hold, his eyes cast down to his shoes. The blood from his nose dribbled down his chin to sluggishly trickle down his neck.

"Come on, lets get out of the rain," Charlie urged, "it's not much warmer in my squad car, but at least it's dry."

Teddy tensed and his head snapped up to look at Charlie, his eyes wide and hostile. Charlie noted that they weren't green like he thought. Shocks of bright blue appeared around his pupils, encroaching on the green until it was nothing but a thin ring around the iris. Charlie watched as the blue turned even brighter right in front of him, and freckles of brown and gold appeared out of nowhere. That meant they were hazel, the ever shifting kind that girls just died over.

"You're arresting me!" Teddy exclaimed, voice high and defensive.

"I never said I was," Charlie said in a calm, easy tone, "If I was arresting you, I'd be reading you your Miranda rights right now, which I'm not. I just don't feel like getting wet standing out here, and you're already soaked enough."

That seemed to placate Teddy a bit. And he really was soaked through, out in the rain in nothing but a t-shirt and jeans. Again. It's a miracle the boy hasn't caught pneumonia if this was how he left the house everyday. Charlie seriously hope that he'd get a clue and put on a damn jacket once in a while, if not for Silvan's sake than at least for Charlie's. They really needed to stop meeting like this.

Shivering slightly, Teddy silently got on his feet in slow, aching movements, minding his bruised ribs. He looked a sorry sight, soaked to the bone, splattered with mud, blood dripping from his face, green hair all a tangled mess around his head and down his bony shoulders. He looked like a half drowned parrot, miserable and ruffled and likely to bite a finger off anyone who tried to touch him.

"Why do you think I would arrest you?" Charlie asked as he stepped aside to let Teddy go first. After a slightly mistrustful glance, Teddy shuffled forward, heading towards the squad car and his bike left in the gravel.

"The hair," Teddy muttered with an awkward half shrug and a vague gesture of his hand, "people judge."

"I'm not one of them," Charlie assured Teddy. Teddy only gave him an unconvinced look in response.

Charlie couldn't really blame him. The scene practically screamed small town soap opera. The police chief breaks up a fight between three all star football players and the skinny, alternative punkish new kid, the obvious underdog. It's only natural that the chief would take the local's side, hometown pride and all that. And that green hair just screamed trouble maker.

But Charlie has never been much for soap operas, and he never played favorites. For one, Charlie didn't even have favorites. He would arrest Isabella or Jacob if it came down to it. Nobody was above the law. Secondly, he knew Teddy was a nice boy for Jacob to be such fast friends with him. And lastly, he knew for a fact that Robin and his stooges were bullies, plain and simple.

Even if Teddy didn't press any charges, Charlie was going to make a phone call to their coach. He didn't care if it cost them the playoffs, Charlie would personally see that their asses were benched hard. Luckily Coach Farley was a fair man that did not tolerate misconduct in his players, on or off the field. It won't be hard at all to convince him that those three needed to be knocked off their pedestals.

Charlie hoped that Teddy would press charges, but his silence so far was telling.

Hurting and angry Teddy made his silent way over to his fallen bike. Gently he propped it up, handling it as if it was an injured animal. The chain was broken, the front wheel bent out of its perfect circle into an oblong shape, and the body was dented so much that the handlebars could only sit at a sharp left. The thing was more damaged than Teddy was, and Charlie realized with a sharp stab of hot seething anger that one of them had probably held Teddy back, forcing him to watch while the other two trashed his bike.

Forget benched, that was the least Charlie was going to do to those shitty little maggots.

Silently, Charlie stepped forward and helped Teddy hook up the sad remains of the bike to the back of the squad car. They had to jerry-rig it with a bungee chord since the frame couldn't fit anymore, but they got it on, and Teddy gave Charlie a brief, raw glance of gratitude for it.

Charlie let Teddy sit up in front with him, the soft patter of the rain the only sound between them.

Charlie pulled out a tissue box and held it out to Teddy. Teddy took a few and pressed it to his still bleeding nose.

"You wanna tell me what happened back there?" Charlie asked softly.

Teddy eyes were directed at his lap.

Charlie sighed. "I know you weren't the one that started it."

No response.

"Do you wanna press charges?" Charlie asked.

Teddy gave a small shake of his head.

"You have every right to." Charlie urged.

Silence.

Charlie sighed again. "You do know I have to take you back home," he pointed out. "Your dad will want to know what happened."

Teddy finally looked up. His eyes were still very blue, and wide with anxiety. "I can walk home," he insisted.

"You're five miles from town. I'm not about to let you walk in the rain without a coat. Again."

Teddy cringed, "C-can't you just...not tell him what you saw."

Charlie gave the boy a flat look.

"Please?" Teddy grimaced.

"You know that I can't."

"But he'll freak out," Teddy exclaimed, "he always freaks out about stuff like this. And he shouldn't because it was nothing but he will because he's just like that and he'll think it's all his fault but it's not. Just please, _please_ don't tell him!"

His voice was high with nerves, his breathing turned suddenly rapid, and he fidgeted in his seat as his hands fluttered about in wide anxious gestures.

"Teddy," Charlie tried to cut in, but the boy continued on.

"It was just a hiccup, just a little setback. He doesn't need to know about it. I've already made a friend and I like it here. I really, really like it here. I don't want to move away. And I know da likes it here too, we both like it! We can't move away!"

"Teddy," Charlie tried again, more firmly.

"They're just stupid bullies! I can just ignore them, I'm not going to let their stupid bigotry scare us away. They're not going to bother me at all because they're dumb asses and I know I can avoid them. High School will be just fine, I can handle it! I know I can handle it!"

"TEDDY!" Charlie shouted as he took Teddy by the shoulders. The boy had stopped taking breaths between sentences, he was speaking so fast his words were beginning to slur together in a high pitched screech. Charlie's touch managed to snap Teddy out of it and the boy gasped once he realized he had no more air in his lungs. His cheeks were flushed red and his eyes shone brightly with the threat of tears.

Teddy looked like he was having a panic attack.

He clutched at Charlie's arms and gaped at him. Then, slowly, Teddy began to breath. He inhaled deeply through the nose, and then exhaled out of his mouth. It was ragged at first, and he nodded his head with the motion, his chest expanding and deflating visibly with each deep breath as if he was working through an asthma attack. Charlie found himself mimicking Teddy, breathing with him and nodding along, because he didn't know what else to do.

It took a long while, but in steady increments Teddy's breathing smoothed out until he was taking calm, regular sized breaths and it no longer looked like he was on the verge of being hysterical. Teddy let go of Charlie's arms, and Charlie carefully leaned back in his seat to give Teddy some space, but kept a reassuring hand on Teddy's shoulder.

"You alright, son?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah," Teddy replied, his voice faint and small. "I'm sorry."

Charlie has had his fair share of hysterical people. It came with the job description, but he's never had a full unprovoked panic attack happen right in front of him. The trick was to stay calm while the person worked through their freak out, so he took that to heart as he gently asked, "What happened there?"

Teddy cringed, shame and embarrassment clear on his face. "I've got...anxiety problems," he admitted, eyes cast down to his muddy shoes.

"Ever since I was small...I'm not...good with...Just-" his explanation faded into a grimace.

"The stupid bloke with the jacket asked me if my da was a faggot," Teddy confessed suddenly, his voice heated with lingering anger. "Told him it was none of his business, but then he goes on! He starts spouting nonsense about my da being a pervert, and his stupid cronies just laugh and egg him on. And then he asks me if my da ever touched me! And he starts calling me a faggot too!"

Teddy made a disgusted sound, his fists curled in his lap as if he wanted to punch something. Charlie shared the sentiment.

"I know I should'na hit him, it was really immature of me. But I just couldn't...he just...I was so angry!" Teddy groused, and then sighed. His shoulders slumped as he stared down at his lap. "And now I've gone and made a mess of it all. Because...because da is gay. I'm not ashamed of him, not at all. But if he hears about this, he'll worry that I'll have trouble fitting in with the other kids and he'll blame himself. And he shouldn't! Because it's nothing to be ashamed about. I mean, we came here just so we could be ourselves, and I just..."

Teddy looked up at Charlie. His eyes were no longer blue, but grey, a grey so light it looked nearly white, with veins of blue and purple coursing through the iris. It reminded Charlie of the stunning moment after a lighting bolt strikes, the image still lingering after the shock and noise had passed.

"I just don't want him to worry," Teddy confessed softly, his stare pleading.

Charlie sighed. His one and only weakness was the eyes. Bella had figured that out fairly quickly, as did Jacob. He couldn't deny them anything when they looked him like that, the way Teddy was looking at him now. But as a police officer he couldn't keep quiet about this. But it went beyond the job. As a father, he couldn't let someone go on not knowing that his son was being bullied. Especially since he's seen first hand how bad it could get.

"I'm sorry Teddy," Charlie said.

Teddy's face crumpled in on itself and he turned away to stare at his lap. He did not lift his head once during the silent ride back to the bakery.

* * *

><p>You know the drill.<p>

What you liked, didn't like, what I can improve.

Don't know if I can make another chapter this fast again, but we'll see.

**Edit**: Thank you for the correction on the names, I wrote the majority of this after midnight

Also about Teddy's eyes, there are actual people who have hazel eyes that literally shift within seconds. My uncle is one, and I am forever jealous of him. But they are quite rare, so Charlie is amazed, but not alarmed.

And Teddy is a metamorphmagi, he didn't actually dye his head green guys. He's learned the trick of keeping one color for a week or so before getting bored with it and then changing it. His head is gonna change a lot through this story.

**Another Edit: **I just want to say that the majority of this was written after midnight, and posted at nearly 4 in the morning. So i'll admit it was rushed and not completely thought through, and I want to thank the person who pointed out that a police officer would never keep quiet about a bullying incident to the parent. Thank you so much for keeping this story realistic.

I am sorry for putting up a rushed chapter and I appreciate that you guys hold me to a higher standard.


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